Guest Erotica: Edging With A Cock Ring


Regular guest blogger James Mycroft has written some of our most popular blog posts this year. This month he tackles erotica, describing the experience of using our ATOM cock ring… plus another one of our toys (can you work out which one?)… in a very sexy edging scenario.

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“Do you think you can hold still?”

The ropes are pulled tight in moments, and then the blindfold covers my eyes. These are not punishments, but are intended to help me focus on what she plans to do to me. Before I can do more than twitch, I feel hands on me. I am tugged one way, then another. Slick lube and then a tight ring grips me, a few hairs pulled as it is twisted slightly. I was already hardening, but now I can feel each throb as I swell.

“Who owns this?”

I give her the answer she wants, immediately. Her fingers stroke up and down over the sensitive skin, and that is only the opening gambit. The ring keeps me hard as she surprises me with sensations; a feather, followed by the stiff leather of a paddle. Squirming fingertips, from base to tip, then the light flick of a silicone flogger. Once, she made me identify each instrument, with forfeits to be performed for each mistake. But now, she just wants to make me focus every part of my mind on one part of my body.

“Or is this what you wanted?”

She abandons subtlety, grasping me in her lubricated fist. Long, slow movements give way to a faster rhythm… but before I can start to thrust, she slows. Faster, then slower. The ring, heavy around the base of me, keeps the skin taut and sensitive under her touch. With urgent, teasing words she urges me to thrust, suggests she might let me finish… only to stop again, leaving me quivering and needy. I would offer anything for her to touch just a little longer, but she already has everything she needs. Finally, when I am moments from crying my safeword, she lifts the blindfold.

“Do you know what will happen if you look away?”

I couldn’t if my life depended on it. Her fingers are again moving in that rhythm, but this time on her own body rather than mine. Moments ago I was the one being teased, but now the approaching pleasure is hers. This is the paradox: edging – teasing me, building me up towards that peak then denying me the climax – is her favourite kind of foreplay. I don’t know if her eyes are closed, lost in this scene and the feeling of her fingers, or if she’s watching me watching her. Is it exhibitionism because she’s having me watch, or voyeurism because she watches my helpless reaction? Either way, she gasps out her pleasure as I quiver and twitch, her satisfaction a mirror-image to my frustration.

“Of course, I didn’t have to stop before the best bit… jealous?”

She reaches to one side of the ring, and I gasp anew as it starts to rumble. It presses against me, the low throbbing making my eyes widen, and she leans closer to smile at the expression on my face before pushing the blindfold down again. Gauging my twitching, she starts to stroke over my chest, up to my tied wrists, then down as far as my knees, careful to avoid the places where I ache for her touch. This time all of her caresses are gentle, a fleeting counterpoint to the steady, deep growl of the vibrator. One fingertip, a length of ribbon, a soft brush, a scrap of satin… as I start to pull at the bindings, she responds by dragging each texture, each tease, over the sensitive spot on my underside. She knows I need a firmer touch to bring me close, so a corner of my mind recognises her words are just a way to play with me.

“If that isn’t enough, how about balancing the pleasure with a little punishment?”

The next sensation is not a gentle one. It is the leather strap again, a thud against my hardness. After a dozen strokes she switches to the flogger, each silicone strand causing its own sting. Some catch in more sensitive places than others. In other circumstances this might make me soften, but the ring seems to make that impossible. The crop is more intense still, and it makes me twitch each time, so it is harder for her to aim. The last few blows make me gasp, and she lays it to one side only to grasp the base of me firmly. This presses my skin against the vibrating ring and I swallow a groan, only to cry out as she smacks me with her other hand. Only a few fingers catch me, but she is once more aiming at the sensitive frenulum and it is so intense I do not know how much I can take. But before I can beg her to stop, she relaxes her grip to smooth cool lubricant over my tip.

“Think this will provide an incentive to do a good job?”

Before I can wonder what she means, I feel her guide something around my tip. It is heavy, sliding against the lubricant, and moments later the vibrations from the ring are matched by another rhythm, now against my frenulum. This new toy focuses the sensations at that spot which feels so good, and I feel myself twitch in response. I feel the bed shift as she lifts her body above me, sensing that she is holding herself there, perhaps watching my expression again. She strokes a hand through my hair, gentle now, and I feel the pulsing of the vibrator on my hardness intensify then fade away a little.

“Do you think it will be your turn next?”

I think at first this is simply more edging, but as she lowers herself to my mouth I realise that she is going to use those changes in rhythm to guide me. She controls the stimulation and it builds as I reach up to lick, to please her, both a reward for following her lead and an encouragement to carry on. As I match her rhythm, feeling her press down as the tension starts to build, I accept that the choice is hers. She might bring me to orgasm using these vibrators, or heighten her own pleasure by teasing and denying me yet again. Her approaching climax is the only answer that matters.

*

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James Mycroft was a Sherlock Holmes fan before Benedict Cumberbatch made him cool again. He reads, writes and enjoys adrenaline sports, including those that happen in the bedroom. Sadly he is much less interesting in real life than online.

 



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